


Black and White

by Harlecat



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlecat/pseuds/Harlecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you met the person that was right for you all the world became colorful. Italy grew up with color all around him. He and Holy Rome were supposed to be together. And then he had to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after midnight and it's barely been edited. I apologize.

When Italy met him, the world lit up.

He had known this was coming. Grandpa Rome had told him about his, and Hungary too. When you met the person that was right for you all the world became colorful. France would go on and on about it, but when Italy asked anything more he always shut up and started to change the subject.

He had not expected it to come so soon. Italy grew up with color all around him. The world was a beautiful place.

He had not expected another boy to be his soulmate, and he was certainly not ready to finalize things. But he liked to be around Holy Rome. He likes the color.

And he felt the same way. They were supposed to be together.

Then he had to leave.

But they would be fine. They were supposed to be together. The world was a beautiful, colored place and everything would be fine.

* * *

 

Italy woke up one day and blinked. He went and found Hungary outside.

"Hungary," he said. "There's something wrong with my eyes."

She'd looked at him with a concerned expression, and fussed over him, asked what was wrong.

"Everything's whitish," he said. "And pale. I don't like it."

She had fallen silent then, and told him to go play. He had laughed and run off, but he found her the next day.

"Everything's the wrong color! I don't like it!" She sent him to his room and went to find Austria, telling him to go to sleep. Italy tried, and when he woke up later he could hear them talking outside. It was dark out. He sat up and Hungary opened his door.

"Italy," she said. "Could I speak with you for a minute?"

"Okay." He turned to face her. She turned the light on and he frowned. It brightened the world, but something felt

wrong.

"I wanted to talk to you about Holy Rome."

"Your face is gray."

"What?"

Italy stood up and pointed to her face. "The color went away. It's all gray. Why did the color go away?" Hungary's face fell. Italy grabbed her face and felt it. "Why?"

She took his hand and moved it away. "Italy, we need to talk about Holy Rome."

"Is he coming back soon? Will the color come back then?"

"No, I don't think he'll be coming back soon."

"Why not?"

"I don't think he'll be coming back at all."

Italy went silent and frowned. "But I thought we were supposed to be together."

"You are. You were, I-"

"We're in love! Like we're supposed to be, right?"

"It's not always that simple."

"Why not?! He loves me! And I love him to! That's all there is!"

"He won't be coming back. We lost the war."

"But we're supposed to be together! I don't care that he lost the war!"

"That's not what I mean, Italy."

"Then why not?!"

"He just won't be! I wish I could explain but-"

"Then do!"

"Life isn't always fair!"

"I don't understand!"

Hungary grabbed him and drew him up in his arms. "I'm sorry, life isn't already fair."

"You already said that!" Italy said, voice spiraling upwards. "I don't know what you mean! Why can't I see color? Why isn't be coming back?"

Hungary took a deep breath. "Because he can't." She sighed and tucked a curl of hair behind his ears. "He can't come back."

"Why not?"

"He just can't. I'm sorry, Italy. He can't go anywhere."

"Why not?"

"He's gone."

She looked down at him for a moment with large, sad eyes, and Italy looked up and did not know what color they were. He was frozen for a moment, then he untangled himself.

"I don't believe you!"

"Italy! Wait!"

He ran.

* * *

Italy got used to black and white. It was normal. This was how most people saw the world, so this was how he saw it too. He got older with it, grew up, became his own black and white nation.

He wondered which of the other nations saw like him, and who could see in color. He wasn't sure. He wondered if any of them had been like him, and had color taken away.

He was fine, really. It just hurt sometimes. When he saw Spain look at Romano, or when Austria reached for Hungary's hand. It hit him, hard, that he was different in this one way from the people he cares about the most. It hurt when they looked at him like he was separate, or broken.

He was not a strong country. He was ruined. He was the remains of someone who had had everything and lost it. He put up his best facade and did what he could but he was not strong enough, and sometimes he thought that if he could just see in color, he'd be stronger.

Hundreds of years passed before that wish was granted.

He was hiding, because he was scared. He was alone, and afraid, and when he heard someone outside, he wanted to cover his head and scream at them to go away. But they did not go away. The opened the box

And the color hit him so quickly, he was left reeling, scarcely registering the sudden change in the world around him. He reacted without noticing, but when he paused, there was a man in front of him the whole world seemed to be pointing to, and the color came sweeping in from all around. And the world lit up.


End file.
